Both Planes Were Lost In The Crash
by wowsugarpuss
Summary: AU. Logan leaves at the end of S1 and five years later Veronica is just beginning to find him again.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

She didn't understand how the dusty streets could ever have become home to him. Everything about the situation was unfamiliar and so unlike the boy she knew – that boy didn't exist here anymore. At some point he had grown up (without her) and she didn't expect him to be the same – but she would have liked to think that there would be some resemblance in him.

The address was scrawled in her pocket, nervous fingers rubbing the edges of her notelet – trying to keep it permanent. She needed to know that it wouldn't disappear like he did. The numbers three and four were printed close together in front of a house name, behind a long lost name.

Logan Echolls, 34 Seafront Crescent.

She didn't want to think about the five years that she would have wasted if this house just disappeared. He pulled a Dorothy and Auntie Em had been hiring her to find him ever since. His friends were slowly forgetting – like he was a memory already – like he was a smoke screen.

She approached a small door in a small house – he had not been hiding in the style to which he was accustomed. He always was a martyr, playing with sympathy even when there was no audience. Her breathing was short and shallow as she felt anger begin to bubble up through her chest at his selfishness.

When there was no answer she wandered round the side of the house, through sandy grass and dry ground that almost edged the ocean.

She approached a man with little boy's shoulders – hunched over a railing – staring out into the deep, endless abyss that the ocean so readily provided.

"Congratulations, you are now officially Neptune High's 2006 Hide and Seek Champion." She greeted, moving to stand beside him.

He almost didn't flinch – but she was glad to see at least a small remainder of the boy she had known in his uneasy fingertips and clenched jaw. It had been five years since she had seen some justice and standing at the edge of the dry, dusty world they were the only two corners left from their square. The siblings that had belonged to them were both in the ground, decidedly not living, and she wondered if he called _this_ living either.

"Ever think I might be avoiding you?" He muttered, eyes still glazed – stretching out towards the waves.

She pulled away from the railing a little, squinting her lips. "It crossed my mind – but I decided that even you're not that petty."

He had turned to face her now, a self-deprecating smile smeared across his lips. "You'd think so, right?"

"It's been five years, Logan. No apology, no trying to explain all this away?" Her eyes and voice had set a desperate tone, defiance cracking under familiarity.

"Why should I apologize?" His face looked cold and hard, a weathered version of the one she knew. "I didn't leave _you_, Veronica. I just left; I wasn't under the impression that I needed a permission slip for that."

Her head shook slightly, a tremor in her fingers. "And you don't think you left people behind?"

"Of course I did. That was _sort of_ the plan." He snipped, his sneer cutting. "Keep up here, V, I thought you were the super-sleuth."

Her teeth were held closely together – determined to gate back the hurt that threatened to simmer up from her lungs. "Duncan's dead." She swallowed her voice even.

"I know."

She watched as he turned away from her again, resting more deeply on the railing this time like a weight was on him. She was obviously too much for him to carry – but she was the only one left and he had to see that was good for something.

"How—"

"We get the papers." He cut off. He sighed a little, a hand moving to twist through his hair anxiously, more little reminders of the boy he used to be. "This isn't like Lilly, he wouldn't still be alive if I'd been there."

"You don't know that—" She started.

"I know we were close, but we never _showered_ together – and since that's where he had his fit…" He let the quick shift of his eyebrows finish the sentence. Sarcasm raw and dripping.

"You could have called someone – let someone know you were alright." She reasoned, quietly.

"Who?" He sniffed. "You?! Duncan? The point of running away is to make sure no one finds you." He patronized.

"No, Logan. The point of running away is to hurt everyone else around you as much as you do. You're good at it." She shot back.

"It was a bad week." He grinned expressionlessly.

She knew he was pushing her buttons, winding her up. But it had worked as anger began to course through her. "It's been a bad week for five years? _Groundhog Day_ didn't have that much repeating angst!"

He turned on her, stalking forwards. "You know what? You don't get to judge." His voice was wavering. "You only ever had someone take a picture of you when you were with me or Lilly." He paused, as if it took all of his control just to keep breathing regularly. "So, Ve-ron-ica, when the paparazzi are building a commune at the bottom of _your_ driveway and _your_ sister's using the attention to pose for Playboy, we'll talk." The tips of his fingers tapped heavily against the railing – agitated.

She refused to step down. "I know it was difficult—"

"Yeah." He gestured a hand between them. "You just _get it_. Now you've shown me that someone understands I'll be skipping over to the house to pack up my knapsack and head _straight_ back to Kansas." He looked up at her seriously, worry in his eyes. "Gosh, Veronica, you didn't forget the ruby slippers did you?"

She shook his head in disgust.

"Well, I guess I'm not going back then."

She watched as he began to walk away from her – only a hesitant glance over his shoulder on the way to his door. She ran her fingers along the cool, steel railing – watching him disappear.

"Logan!"

His chin tilted back over his shoulder as she moved towards him, plodding through the dead sea grass and grains of sand that used to be shells. Weathered and worn into different shapes – like so many people that are left behind by selfish boys and their hurting chests.

As she reached him her fingers curled up over the edge of his jaw, her toes stretching up until her lips pressed closed against his. Chaste and unmoving – they stayed frozen for a moment before she pulled her mouth away.

Staring back at her, his face mostly unchanged – he let a hand trace through the very edge of her hair – longer now than he had remembered.

Her mouth quirked at the corner. "Just don't forget about me."

"It was never about that." He admitted quietly.

She nodded. Accepting whatever he wanted her to – it had been too long to argue about defenses and safety-lies. He made no further attempt to explain and with a sad smile she turned to leave, retracing the steps back to her car.

"Veronica…" He pleaded with her to understand.

She stopped a hand half-way in the air. "I know where you live." She reassured softly and he nodded – pushing his hands deep into his pockets.

She knew where he lived and it was not in the house by the edge of the ocean, or in the town where his girlfriend had died. The little boy – whose stance he still had – lived somewhere else, and he had a feeling that she was going to find that too.

That she was going to find him all over again.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

He wished for a cliché in the ocean, for the lapping tide to smash around and prove the world was ending. Veronica Mars was finding him, and this could only be a dangerous thing. Fragility crashed beneath old news.

_Her words were gasping and real. "I'm so sorry, Logan. I know it wasn't you, I just—"_

"_I don't want your apology, Veronica." His voice was cold. Firm._

"_Logan, please…"_

_He cut her off with a short gesture, lips smudging into a sardonic smile. "No. Go find yourself another scapegoat – this one's headed for the slaughter." His tongue traced the corner of his mouth in amusement as he spun from her, making pace._

"_Logan." She called after him. "Logan!" She tried again, force of sheer will (and pride) keeping her from chasing after him. She wasn't going to beg him for anything. "Logan, please don't do something stupid!"_

_He turned back just long enough to make the venom in his eyes clear. "Don't worry about me now, Mars, you haven't bothered before."_

He was surprised that she had never given up – never accepted that he might be dead. God knows he gave up on people quickly. A soft blue light was disappearing from the horizon, harsh yellow-red (like rusty blood) tarnishing the dry brush and copper-colored sand. He brushed the dust with an idle foot – he was not very far from Neptune at all anymore, hidden away in a strange parody of the desert and the sea, where things other than morality and trust were crumbling.

His fingers fumbled briefly with the cell phone in his pocket. It was crisp and new but as he scrolled down the numbers a memorable name appeared beneath the backlight. He clicked 'call' with only a slight trembling and let the ringing up his heart rate. There was a swift click and he heard a tinny, metal version of her voice ooze from the speaker.

"I knew you hadn't changed your number – you're way too curious Veronica Mars. Or cheap." He paused, a deep breath welling in his lungs. "555-0839, as if you didn't already know."

"_This isn't funny, Duncan. Nobody's seen him for days so would you just cut the crap and tell me where he is – I don't care if he doesn't want to see me." She demanded._

"_Honestly, Veronica, I don't know." He gritted. "I got a call three days ago asking me to go on a road trip to Vegas – when I said no he hung up and I haven't heard anything since." He tripped a little on his explanation, as if guilt and responsibility were tied around his ankles._

"_Well, he's not there." She cried, frustrated that she care so much, embarrassed that she was letting it show._

"_Believe me, if I knew I would tell you—"_

"_But you don't." She finished softly._

It's not so easy to stay hidden when you're famous – but surprisingly out from under his father's reflected glow Logan was somewhat anonymous. The few people that had recognized him over the years always started with: "You know, you look really like that Echolls kid…" It had never gone any further – that kid was lost and dead and forgotten, a young man wearing his shoes.

As the sinister red sky faded into muted black and grey his head buzzed of girls and boys and places he hadn't thought of in a long time. Dwelling would kill you and Logan has always been very determined to live long enough to watch Aaron Echolls be dumped in the ground – even if his stay on death row was constantly extended.

That's when he has planned to make his grand return. When his father was dead and Veronica was long gone (escaped to better things) and successful Duncan would take him in long enough for Logan to count the inheritance and buy some streamers in obnoxious colors. Aaron's funeral would have been the final insult – tacky and brash and very, very public.

Aaron would have hated it and Logan would have let Trina write her own reading – and yes he would have had a say in it – because she may have been Aaron's first child but Logan had had two superstars as parents, photographers watching him at preschool. He was the real heir to the Echolls name and that was the reason he left. He hoped she would fake cry during the reading.

_Duncan seemed cheerful, light. Definitive proof had had that effect on most people in Neptune. "It's not going to be weird, man, people know it wasn't you."_

_Logan was not lucky enough to have been hit by the joy. Watching Duncan with skeptical eyes he maneuvered himself out of the SUV and onto the wide pathway that led up to Neptune High's main building. "Yeah, we all gave Veronica exactly the same discretion about her dad."_

_Duncan's face faltered for only a second before he managed to grab at justifications and reasoning. "We're all older now, more mature." He actually seemed to believe what he was saying._

"_Are you kidding me?" Logan scoffed, tossing his bag over one shoulder and grimacing as he started towards the doors. "Man, I fed my own demise."_

_Duncan followed after, his step jauntier and his demeanor almost surreal. "It'll be fine."_

_Unhappy with Duncan's reluctance to anything except optimism Logan gritted out compliance, low in his throat. "Yeah, of course…"_

The sky was a smooth black now – underlined by a harsh chill. He took a quick shuddering breath and started back inside, the memory of the ocean's deep blue-black depths already fading from his memory. Before he had even managed to close the door behind him a flashing blue light started to buzz from his pocket. He snatched the cell from his pocket and took a quick glance at the name on screen.

'Veronica Mars'

Closing his eyes Logan took a moment before pressing a thumb down over the small green button, opening up a delicate wire link between wherever he was and wherever she was. A delicate link with an immense amount of power.

"_I sent you an untraceable cell." Her voice wavered because in reality she had sent three. "Please call, Logan. You don't have to come home just… call. Please."_

"Hey." His tone was more even than it felt on the inside where it was rubbing dry against his throat.

"Hi." He could almost hear the nervous smile in her voice. "You tempted fate and called me, thought I'd return the favor."

"Manners? This late in the game?"

"Do you _want_ me to tell E! where you've set up shop?" She teased. There was a strain in her voice that made it seem bizarre, as if she couldn't believe it could be that easy – that after so long he could taunt her and she would barb back instead of saying something serious.

It was too difficult to be serious with him a lot of the time. It hurt quite a bit of the time too.

There was silence on his end of the line and panic jumped into her mouth, her heart trying to kick her throat for scaring him away when she couldn't drag him back. If he ran then she was back at square one – she had been right to disbelieve that that the situation would be easy.

"I'm sorry, I wouldn't—" She began.

"It's okay." He hesitated, too many phrases fighting for the tip of his tongue. "Look, I have stuff to do and I'm sure Neptune has some stray dogs or pre-nup voiding wives so – I'm going to go."

Her voice was warm. "Thanks."

He was colored with a stupefied curiosity. "What for?"

"For telling me this time."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

The air was thick with salt, clawing and choking with a bitterness that seemed appropriate. When Logan stepped out of his little house by the ocean his first sight was Veronica Mars, perched on his car.

"Hey," Logan stepped down from his porch to see that Veronica had a bag of donuts in one hand and a small cardboard tray with two Styrofoam cups of coffee sitting next to her.

"Hey," she smiled warmly, if not a little nervously.

Logan made his way towards the car, slowly, newly retrieved newspaper in hand, "You're averse to knocking?"

"I just didn't want to wake someone."

"There's only me, you knew that already so don't pretend like you didn't."

"You're the only one that _lives_ there. There could have been someone else round," she reasoned.

He nods, "There's not."

"The coffee might be a little cold," she gestured to the two small plastic containers.

"It'll heat," he decided simply, nodding her towards the door of the house.

Veronica took a deep breath as she jumped down off the hood of Logan's car – no longer the large, yellow monstrosity from high school – and followed his lead into the small cottage. Inside it seemed like everything was wooden, traditional the kitchen screamed 'happy families'.

Logan caught her expression with amusement, "It came furnished."

"Oh," she smiled, "I did wonder when you decided floral was a good curtain material."

"Never," he replied vehemently. "I'm not really into all this decorating shit though."

"Yeah," she breathed out, taking at seat at the large oak table taking up most of the room, "me either."

Logan picked up the coffees, regarding them for a moment before throwing them in the bin and retrieving two mugs from an overhead cupboard. He hit the switch on an espresso machine and took a seat across from Veronica.

"So, you're here. Again."

Veronica was suddenly very anxiously, fidgeting with a ring on her thumb as she blurted out, "I'm so sorry I didn't find you faster. How could it have taken me five years when you were so close?"

Logan watched her for a moment longer, a quick glance to the lack of a ring on her left hand, "No one else was looking."

"But you didn't even change your name!" she berated herself.

Logan's gaze darted to the table as he replied, "Maybe you didn't really want to find me."

Veronica was no longer upset as she looked back at him; anger set her jaw tightly, slipping only when she found her lungs gasping against the horrible feeling of inadequacy and guilt. She wouldn't let herself cry, but it was _hard_. Her jaw was too tight to respond verbally – her lungs pressing against her ribs, making her chest ache.

"I've got my reasons," she said finally, and Veronica wasn't really sure what she was defending.

"Yeah, well I've got mine," he retorted.

"That's nice to know, maybe one day you'll feel like sharing," she couldn't help being bitter.

He nodded quietly, waiting for the coffee to bring him some distraction, "Not today."

"Guessed as much," she sighed, 'told you so'ing herself.

"It's been five years, Veronica, you can't just expect everything at once," he reasoned.

She shrugged, "Everything leaves at once."

"What do you want me to say, Veronica? You wanted more than I had in me."

"I just wanted you to forgive me."

"Yeah, well there you go."

She reached down into her bag then, throwing a small packet across the table at him. Logan looked slightly confused as he turned the packet over in his hands.

"Prom, graduation, some other stuff you didn't stick around for," she explained.

Logan placed the unopened photos back on the table, closer to her. "Not sure I want to sift through you and Duncan's pretty pastel memories, thanks."

"Well you're in luck then because those are just mine."

"You guys weren't—"

"Surprisingly enough we didn't run straight back into each other's arms just because you skipped town."

"Right."

Veronica pushed the packet back to him and stood to retrieve the fresh coffee as he rifled through her past, all glossy on plastic-coated cardboard.

"It doesn't matter," he added somewhat belatedly, when she retook her seat.

Veronica looked up, confused by the change in subject.

"That you didn't find me," he clarified, "I wasn't going to go to college anyway. Trust fund kid, right?"

"That's such a lie," she smiled with watery eyes.

"Yeah," he admitted, "a little."

"I could have given you your life back."

Logan was silent for a moment before replying, "I have a life, Veronica. Duncan's the one that died."

Veronica swallowed, "What about a life with me?"

He shrugged, trying to appear blasé, "We wouldn't have worked out anyway."

"I just meant at all," she tried to reel in her breathing. "Duncan died, and—"

Logan watched expectantly as Veronica closed her mouth definitely against the words and started again, "I'm going to go home." She shook her head and began to walk back towards the door, to her car.

"Veronica!"

She turned, "If you don't want to be found, Logan, I won't force you anymore. I've wasted enough time on you." With that she hurried her pace, almost making it back to her car before Logan caught her elbow, spinning her back to him.

"Duncan died, and?" he asked quietly.

Veronica's face was set, teeth gritted as her eyes darted to the hand still gripping her arm. Logan let his fingers fall away, standing maybe a little too close.

"Duncan died, and I was all alone," she finished for him.

Logan wanted to laugh at that, "You've never been alone, Veronica."

"No?"

"You've got your dad," he reasoned.

"My dad died," she enlightened in a small voice.

Logan mentally kicked himself. "I didn't know."

"Yeah, it was recent," she offered.

His hand cupped her shoulder, running a firm path down her arm and back again. "I'm so sorry, Veronica."

"Everybody is."

"But Duncan died years ago, you weren't alone then."

"No one knew him and Lilly – us – like you did," she tried to explain.

"It shouldn't still be about Lilly."

Veronica shrugged. Their heads were both ducked when she looked up at him with conviction.

"I just, I need to know," she started, "the press have always hounded you, what was _so_ different about it? Why did you leave?"

"Because I wasn't willing to listen to them put words in my mouth about my dad. Because if one Prozac-popping romanticized press junkie had said that I forgave him – I would have killed them," his voice was shaking, on edge.

"They ripped you apart, Logan."

He pressed his lips tightly together before responding, quietly, "I know."

"They said all those things anyway," she sounded heartbroken, as if all of this was new.

"I know," he repeated.

"Then you didn't accomplish _anything_—" her voice broke.

"I know!" he turned on her. "I know, Veronica. I fucking know so just leave it."

"Why, because that's the best way to handle things?" she demanded, "Just _leave_ things when they get hard?"

Logan was staring intensely at the ground, refusing to look at her. His voice was calm – back in control – as he spoke, "I need you to go."

"Logan—"

He didn't turn back, heading straight for his house as Veronica stood framed by the light surf below.

"You're a _coward_," she spat in devastation.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Veronica didn't know where to go. Logically she knew that home was the best bet – that staying, provoking Logan anymore wasn't going to get her anywhere. It hadn't been her intention to start railing on him again after five years, it hadn't been anywhere in the carefully crafted plan she'd drawn out one day with a pack of highlighters and very little hope left. Veronica's lips were pressed together and stretched wide in a grin that could very easily dissolve into tears when she thought of how often things 'didn't go to plan'.

The cloud cover was quickly evaporating as the sun started to burn a hole into the sky, everything lightening as morning crept on. Rubbing furiously at her eyes, angry, Veronica tripped and tottered down the steep rough towards the sand that lined the ocean she was overlooking.

Home seemed logical, but somehow infinitely unsatisfying.

Veronica had no answers, no stories, she was just as in the dark about Logan as she had been for all the time he'd been missing – the only difference was that now he was standing in front of her while he ran. She sighed, letting her body fall roughly into the sand, suddenly wishing she'd stolen the donuts when she made her grand exit. Searching around in her bag Veronica found a half-read book and a half-squashed cereal bar, she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the vaguely 'nutritious' block of corn and rice and honey – then broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth anyway.

And that's how he found her an hour later – knees drawn up to her chest, nursing tiny pieces of a second bar, book still half-read by her feet – staring out at the lightening water.

"I'm not a coward."

Veronica didn't look up at him, forced herself not to, "Okay," she accepted unconvincingly.

Logan let himself sink into the sand in front of her, "I was serious, you don't _get it_."

"I would've helped you – disappear, if you'd wanted."

He looked pained, "Can we not?"

"Not what?" she couldn't be bothered with this fight anymore, it was a losing battle. She was sick of losing.

"I've gone over and over the version where you arrange for me to run away and I end up in some tiny European town and you visit over summer and I actually do something with my life, okay," he sounds almost matter-of-fact, as if he's come to terms with these ideas already.

_He's had enough time_, she thinks.

If Veronica's surprised she doesn't look it, Logan thinks she probably is surprised – but it never was about forgetting her, just leaving her behind. It would be nice to say that he had noble intentions, that leaving was so that Veronica could move on to something – someone – better, but that was just a fringe benefit of the whole plan. It had been a selfish plan, but for the last five years it had worked out pretty well.

Veronica nodded, seemingly to herself, and began to stand. Logan's hand moved out and although he didn't touch her his mouth formed around the word, "Stop."

Digging her teeth firmly into her bottom lip she waited. She'd been waiting too much lately.

"Don't go."

It was more an invitation than a request and it took Veronica a few moments to process what she was going to do – she didn't want to leave, that's why she was sitting on a tiny strip of deserted beach with no sunscreen and the rays slowly burning stronger. That didn't mean it was the best thing to do, though. But it was Logan and he looked like Logan and, God help her, she wanted to know if he smelled like Logan, if he would feel the same under a soft palm. The small press of her lips against his when she first found him suddenly wasn't enough and Veronica averted her eyes, falling back down into the spot where she had compacted down the sand.

His thumb moved gently against her pulse as his fingers wrapped delicately around her wrist, his mouth moved down over her and there was a beat, a pause when he was less than inches from her mouth – a thick mesmerizing hesitation – before she could feel his mouth close over hers slowly, deliberately.

She was desperate and nothing about this kiss was as she started to sink onto her back, dragging him down by small handfuls of his shirt. Her hand skimmed down his face, one ran through his hair, pulled him closer. They shifted, pressing heavily into his back, gripping his arm – keeping him with her. Just making sure he couldn't run away as she hooked a foot over his leg, running it lethargically up his calf.

Veronica nudged him with her knee, rolling them over so that she could lie along Logan – mouth still attached to his. Almost without thinking Veronica's hands reached for the buttons down his shirt and Logan started to laugh as her tongue traced down his chest. Veronica's head shot up as she heard him declare through his laugher, "We're so fucking hopeless."

"What?" she swallowed. Pulling herself up, Veronica moved to straddle Logan properly.

"You're pissed at me, five years worth of pissed off, and we're gonna have sex? In public?" he sounded amused more than anything else.

"It's hardly public—" she started, realizing that this was probably not the point with which he had issue.

"People do live here, Veronica."

"Don't you…" she trailed off, not willing to be that kind of vulnerable. Taking a deep breath she rolled off of him to lie back in the sand, arms crossed around her chest, "God, I hate this."

It was a long moment before either said anything.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" he asked calmly, "Shouldn't you be getting hitched and buying a house and just—"

"I'm twenty-two, Logan. Not thirty."

He shrugged simply, not sure how to vocalize his thoughts. It seemed backwards to tell her to move on when his chest was still hammering with the results of her tongue.

The silence was cutting; its presence almost tangible as Logan made a decision and grabbed her hand, pulling Veronica to her feet and up the rough back towards the house. Once inside he caught her against the back of the door, indulging in a heavy kiss. Veronica scrambled for purchase, gripping his shoulders as she pushed up on tiptoes trying frantically to deepen the pressure of his tongue.

"It can just be this… one time," Veronica panted into his mouth, as Logan helped her wrap her legs firmly around his hips. The ache in her chest echoed the ache between her thighs.

Everything was somehow calmer than it should have been as he stumbled through the short corridor, his bedroom door wide open and inviting. Logan almost dropped Veronica, falling backwards onto the unmade bed so that she came down on top of him, her mouth travelling the length of his jaw sucking lightly, moving further down so that a firm tongue could push against his pulse.

The thick curtains were still closed and just enough warm morning light filtered through the gaps (where the pieces of fabric fell awkwardly away from each other) so that Logan could still see Veronica above him – hands moving quickly towards the button by his waist band as he unzipped her first top, hands diving under the material of the second to find warm skin.

She gasped, easing the zip on his pants down, pulling back the denim efficiently.

Her kissing wasn't sweet, her hands weren't hesitant and as Logan lay back into the mattress he wondered what the hell he'd done to this girl. What the hell she was going to do to him now.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

He had kissed her as she came – stretched out beneath him – and after her breathing settled and she had come down from the high Veronica had promptly slipped out from under the sheets and headed straight for the en suite bathroom, closing the door soundly. Logan could still hear her crying quietly.

He closed his eyes against the sound and reluctantly shook off the afterglow as he pulled on a pair of pants and grabbed a towel off the back of a chair in the corner. Heading for the main bathroom, he turned the shower to a scalding shade of hot, hoping to burn off some of the guilt, maybe a few layers of skin. It didn't work and still feeling equally awful about the girl crying in his bathroom Logan quickly climbed out of the shower, squeaky clean with wet hair, and pulled on his jeans again, heading back to his room for a shirt.

Veronica was sitting on the edge of his bed – clothed and showered, her hair slightly damp. He passed her silently, making a b-line towards a drawer full of t-shirts. His back was turned when she spoke.

"Sorry," her voice was low.

Pulling a shirt over his head Logan turned to her, not moving any closer, "Are you okay?" he didn't sound impressed. To be honest he _wasn't_ impressed and he was doing his best not to be angry about the whole situation. It obviously wasn't what she wanted, and _this_ – now – wasn't what he wanted.

"We grading that on a curve?" she tried to smile, failing as the wobbly corners of her mouth faltered.

Logan didn't reply.

"So that…" she trailed off with an exaggerated release of breath.

"Shouldn't have happened," he nodded decisively.

Her eyebrows quirked, "Oh-kay." Veronica looked slightly taken aback – mildly offended. "I'm just—"

"Regretting it," he finished for her bitterly. It wasn't lost on Logan how often he had cause to be bitter or regretful around Veronica, he chastised himself for not remembering that from high school.

"I was going to go with 'overwhelmed'," she corrected.

He nodded without much emotion, "Huh."

"You disappeared, Logan. You could have been _dead_, how do you not get that that's a big deal?" her tone exasperated, frustrated by his lack of understanding.

"I don't know," he shot back, voice raised, "why do you think it _is_ such a big deal?"

"Because I love you!" she blurted out. "Loved. I loved you," she amended quickly, gaze dropping to the floor.

He swallowed audibly, his whole body on edge from trying to stay still, "Past tense doesn't really apply."

"It was just really – _real_, okay? I—I didn't plan for anything to happen," she confided.

He took a moment to let her explanation sink in. "You had a plan?" he couldn't help but smile.

"Kinda," she blushed, "not really, just an idea of how things would play out when I found you."

Logan sighed tightly; tired with feeling the way he did with her, tired of everything being difficult. "Why did you even bother, Veronica? Why not just move on?" he sounded as if the answer was something he desperately needed to know.

"It was like a… mission, like I could make everything okay if I just got you home – I guess in the end it was just habit, just something I did," she confided.

There was a long silence between them, nervous and uncertain. Neither really knew where to go from here, neither really wanted to fall back into disappointment or accusations today. Somehow it seemed inevitable that disappointment would continue to play a part in this story though.

Logan nodded carefully, taking a step towards where she was still seated, precariously tottering on the edge of his bed, one of her knees twitching anxiously, "What happens now?"

"You could come home," she sounded hopeful, with wide eyes.

"Veronica, I own a house, a car, some beachfront – this _is_ home," he took a deep breath. "I haven't just been hiding."

"I get that, I do," she started wistfully, "it just doesn't really fit with the plan," she once again tried to smile, weighed down with nostalgia.

Logan smiled sadly in response. "So, what happens now?" he repeated.

Veronica stood, taking a step to close the distance between them. "You could kiss me," she suggested.

"You sure you're not going to cry?" he grinned, soft and warm.

Veronica pressed her returning smile to his mouth in answer, despite the glaze in her eyes.

"Logan—" she whispered thickly.

He nodded, pulling back enough to let his palm settle against her cheek, "I'm still here."

She smiled through completely different tears, "Yeah. Yeah, you are."

"And _you're_ still here," he continued, not talking about their location at all as his mind swung back to Lilly and Duncan and why they weren't breathing.

"_Yeah_, I am," she forced the tears away with a quickly blooming smile.

"Then go home, Veronica. Go back to school or work or whatever and I'll _still_ be here. I'm not going to evaporate."

His hand fell onto her shoulder, running down the length of her arm until it fell off – their interactions becoming increasingly chaste. Her hand was in his now and they weren't touching at any other point, Veronica thought that maybe this was how it had to be – that after initial slip-ups and chemical reactions you had to work for what you wanted. You couldn't just find somebody and expect them to be the same person they were five years before, you had to let them show you who they were now. You had to grow into their life slowly if you wanted any permanent place.

Logan swung their hands restlessly, and Veronica smiled that at least he was still hyper-kinetic. At least his smile was the same and he still slouched when he was nervous and he was still way too tall for her. She could go home, she could sleep with her phone off and she could come back here – to the little house by the endless ocean and know that she would find him. She could throw out the worn down notelet and scribbled address and maybe one day she'd be able to burn the thick manila folder full of leads and contacts and places he could have been.

"You'd better not," she threatened, tugging on his hand until Logan wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, pulling Veronica against him. She pressed her face into his chest, eyes closed, before he released her – the two of them walking slowly to the kitchen to retrieve the bag she had dropped there by the front door.

Just as they passed through the threshold Veronica caught Logan's wrist, he paused, turning back to her.

"I missed you," she said. "I never told you that."

He gazed at her disbelievingly, a slow smile creeping across his mouth as he lifted her into a sudden spin, dropping her on to the edge of the table as his tongue pushed into her mouth roughly.

Her fingers curled around his neck as he mumbled, "How could you not have?"

Veronica pulled back, an annoyed smile pulling at her mouth as she shook her head, "You are so in love with yourself."

"Well, yeah," he grinned, moving down to kiss her again, "But I kinda like you too."

She clung a little tighter, knowing that this was a temporary respite – determined to enjoy it anyway. After all, there was plenty of wreckage to clear, and right after this, they had better get started. It would take some time.


End file.
